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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060922">WINTER IN PYONGYANG</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SILKCUT/pseuds/SILKCUT'>SILKCUT</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ɪɴꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʙʏ ꜱɪʟᴋᴄᴜᴛ [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Inscribed by SILKCUT, Twitter Roleplay Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:09:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SILKCUT/pseuds/SILKCUT</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows the woodlands better than anybody. As early as four years old, his mother took him to long walks every morning, and taught him how to track and hunt.</p><p>Thinking about her again watered his eyes once more, but So-jin certainly cannot afford to dwell on his sadness. He has to endure. If not for her sake, then he’s doing it for himself.</p><p>So-jin is only six years old. He’s not ready to die.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ɪɴꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʙʏ ꜱɪʟᴋᴄᴜᴛ [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132040</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>WINTER IN PYONGYANG</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>ﾒ</strong>
</p><p>Ｋｉｍ Ｓｏｊｉｎ Ｈｅｅ</p><p>
  <strong>ﾒ</strong>
</p><hr/><p> </p><h2 class="wsite-content-title">
  <strong>Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ ｉｎ Ｐｙｏｎｇｙａｎｇ<br/></strong>
</h2><h2 class="wsite-content-title">
  <strong>༻✧</strong>
</h2><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="paragraph">
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    <p>It snowed that day.<br/><br/>So-jin woke up somewhere in the woods and he doesn’t know where it was for the first time. He lived in a small cottage in a remote area close to the mountains and he always knew his way around these parts. But he could not figure out how he ended up here. It must have been the blow to his head that did that. His fingers probed the tender spot where someone had hit him, and it still bled. For a while So-jin sat there in the dirt and grass, looking at his fingers smeared with his blood until he felt the soft touch of snow hovering above him.<br/><br/>He shivered, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s from the cold or the fact that he was slowly putting back together the remnants of yesterday.<br/><br/>It had only started snowing so he still has an hour to go before it covers everything in sight. So-jin pulled himself up from the ground and started walking. Each step made the wound on his head hurt, but he ventured on until he recognized a landmark and circled a path leading to the stream, knowing that crossing it would take him back home.<br/><br/>But the more he walked, the clearer the memory got.<br/><br/>So-jin ran now, and the water from the stream splattered behind him as he did.</p>
    <p><br/>As soon as he reached the cottage, he knew better than to come in. So-jin cautiously approached the rocky pathway and found some stones with dried blood on them. All the pieces are forming by themselves now as So-jin walked near the entrance where the door was unhinged. He would have almost collapsed if he didn’t put his hands on the wooden floor to steady himself as he sat down.<br/><br/>So-jin was afraid to remember fully and put them in words. His head throbbed. The snow weighed him down as he began to walk again. He looked at his feet and saw that he was stepping on a blood trail. He followed it before the snow wipes it out. So-jin wasn’t sure how long he walked until the trail disappeared. But he knew he was there.<br/><br/>There was a small crowd before him and it took a while to understand what they were standing around for. He walked closer, measuring his steps. His eyesight blurred a little and the blood from his wound was trickling down at the back of his neck by now. As small enough as he is, So-jin managed to push through the crowd. They were all looking up, and he followed their gaze to a massive tree above him. Its branches extended long enough to hinder the sunlight and a canopy of leaves shrouded everything close to it. Snow was beginning to mingle with the leaves and So-jin was mystified with its strange beauty for a moment before he realized what he was supposed to be looking at.<br/><br/>Something was dangling in one of its thick branches. He hears another child cry among the crowd and a voice of a man announcing something. He couldn’t pick up on the words at first until he takes another step forward and adjusted his eyesight. It was then when a terror so real stabbed him on the chest.<br/><br/>His mother was hanging from that tree. It was her mutilated and butchered body that the birds are feasting on as he watched, as he listened to one of the soldiers proclaim that she was a spy and that she betrayed her government.<br/><br/>His eyes leaked, blurring his vision further.<br/><br/>And then he ran back to the forest. He didn’t care if anyone followed.<br/><br/>The heat of his tears stung, making it almost impossible to see where he was going now, but the toes in his feet have gone numb so he kept running anyway. It was only when he reached a clearing in the woods that his knees buckled and he stopped for breath. But not for long. So-jin felt something twisting his insides and rotting his core.<br/><br/>He threw up, choking and sobbing all at once.<br/><br/>Before he could wipe his mouth, there were hands pulling him from behind.<br/><br/>He screamed as two men in brown uniforms held me down and then he felt something cold pressed to his left temple. So-jin froze, knowing only too well from the eyes of his captors that they will pull the trigger. A thousand things run through his head as he stopped resisting but only one sentence came out from him and nothing else.<br/><br/>“Cut her down,” he murmured once and then repeated it louder.<br/><br/>They laughed and began to strip him off his soiled garments. Afterwards he was lifted off the ground and thrown inside a compartment. The force almost knocked him unconscious but he kept his eyes open although there was nothing to see but darkness that pressed itself upon his face and swallowed him whole. And then the compartment moved. He can hear hooves. Horses. So-jin tried to stand but his legs were shaking.<br/><br/>In the back of his mind, he should have been concerned that he was still badly wounded with the blow from yesterday, and that he ached and shivered all over especially now that he was naked and in the dark. But these afflictions are trivial to him. All he cared about was his mother’s corpse hanging on that tree.<br/><br/>His soft whimpers echoed around him as he struggled not to fill the gaps in his memories. But the solitude rips them out of him. When So-jin opened and closed his eyes, it was still the darkness that greeted him—and the outpour of images came and swirled in his mind, replaying every action and sequence, and making him listen to her screams over and over. He saw the rusty nails attached at the end of those whips and he could even hear the sound of her flesh tearing repeatedly from their onslaughts as the uniformed men took turns. Her face—pale, beautiful, always smiling—was shredded into half. The thorns sliced their way through her breasts as soon as they turned her over.<br/><br/>She screamed all the way through. She screamed his name.<br/><br/>The compartment stopped rocking.<br/><br/>As soon as he heard the door creak open, he gathered all the strength left in him and pounced, scratching and biting one of the men who took a step forward and grabbed him. The man let him go and So-jin used the impact of his landing to kick himself off the ground and run before the others could get their hands on him. He had always been light on his feet, and quite a small target, so the bullets whizzed through him as long as he kept up his speed. His reflexes were more alert than ever, and it was an opportunity to clear his head and think of what to do next. He knows the woodlands better than anybody. As early as four years old, his mother took him to long walks every morning, and taught him how to track and hunt.<br/><br/>Thinking about her again watered his eyes once more, but So-jin certainly cannot afford to dwell on his sadness. He has to endure. If not for her sake, then he’s doing it for himself.<br/><br/>So-jin is only six years old. He’s not ready to die.<br/><br/>The snow has worsened but So-jin was trained well. He always felt like nature talks to him, recognizes a connection with him, and guides him along wherever he goes. He never gets lost. A couple more hedge paths and a stretch of high foliage later, he found the first landmark: a mahogany tree that he climbed up so many times before. A bullet grazed his knee as he was reaching for the next branch. He ignored it and clawed his way up. He reached the top and crossed over to the next tree, being as swift as possible so there will be no intervals between his movements that will allow the men below to pinpoint his direction and shoot. The blast of gunshots everywhere was deafening but So-jin focused on the task at hand. It was easy to hide when there’s enough snow to disguise him as he crossed. Only two trees left before he could get to the stream. He takes a leap and almost falls out of balance.<br/><br/>So-jin clutched onto the branch and swung his legs to another. And then his arms seized another one but he slides down and was able to get a glimpse of one of the men. He looked preoccupied with his gun and So-jin guessed that he must have emptied it already. Although he knew that his survival was the most important thing here, he thought about killing this man. He had never thought about killing a person before, though he does have an expertise with rabbits and the occasional cattle.<br/><br/>But two other men were approaching now so he dismissed the thought and climbed up again. He stayed quiet as he listened to them talk, hoping he could at least get some sense what they are up to and why they want him.<br/><br/>So-jin doesn’t understand why they’re chasing him. It was his mother they wanted. He was nobody. They could have executed him but instead they seem to have other plans. Prison? His nails dug hard on the trunk of the tree he had his arms around. No, they were going to sell him; trade him as a slave, maybe. His mother told him about children being shipped off to Rangoon or Bangkok. They do horrible things to the children, but that’s all she said. So-jin couldn’t think of anything more frightening than what happened to him yesterday, and he’s not about to be a victim again. As the conversation among the men turned into an argument, So-jin realized that he could still go back to the cottage and get some things. He had no doubt that the men will go back there and burn it down.<br/><br/>There’s little time then. Carefully and as inconspicuously as he could, So-jin crept down the tree and hid on the tall grass below. He crawled as silently as he could while he listened to them shout at each other.<br/><br/>He could hear the waterfall nearby.<br/><br/>So-jin knew there was a passage underground. It was a cave below the waters. He could only hear the men faintly now but he did not risk to make a sound. He slowly dipped himself into the water and almost cried out when the shock of its iciness traveled through his legs. But he ignored it, took a deep breath, and swam swiftly down the stream. He flapped his arms forward as he focused his eyes towards the right direction. The water was so cold and heavy that he was beginning to feel weak, but So-jin has come this far to give up. He reached the passageway at last and slithered inside an opening hole that led to the cave. He swam for another minute until he emerged, coughing and shaking all over. He groaned in pain as he pulled himself out of the water and dragged his body ashore.<br/><br/>The cave was a great hiding place and it wouldn’t be that difficult to build a fire and sleep in it for days. So-jin knew he’ll be safe here. But he didn’t have time to rest. The cottage was another mile away. He stumbled a few times as he ran, and despite the snow’s temptation to wrap him in its embrace, So-jin managed to get to the doorway even as his foot slipped and he hit the ground. He hurriedly picked himself up again and a new kind of pain took a hold of his hips and thighs. Still fighting, So-jin limped towards the hammock where he usually sleeps and took one of his tattered rags and his old hunting boots so he could put them on. Once clothed, he searched through his mother’s mattress where he knew she kept a tin can filled with coins. After he found it, he took a large sack from the corner and put it in there. He also shoved more of his clothes in it, as well as his mother’s.<br/><br/>So-jin carried the sack on his back and walked outside, testing the sensation in his toes. He was wrought and starving, already reaching his limit, but he pushed through one last time and started to run again. He held onto the sack, and imagined that it was his mother’s corpse so he could have the power to bear it.<br/><br/>He knew the men are coming, judging by the track impressions on the hedge path. He could evade them as long as he followed the other path leading to the cave.<br/><br/>As soon as So-jin reached his destination, he heard their voices behind him. He relaxed though, knowing the worst has passed. They cannot find him here.<br/><br/>So-jin walked inside the cave and dropped the sack to the side. He collapsed next to it. He knew he should examine any new abrasions in his body and do something about his head trauma. But he was too tired for any of that now.<br/><br/>Lying on his back, he lets everything go. Wind wafted through and carried a bit of snow inside.<br/><br/>The cold reminded him of what he had lost. The pain of that was so strong that he could feel it at the back of his throat. The heat of his tears filled his head with clarity.<br/><br/>All he could think about was the way she dangled in that tree.</p>
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    <strong>ﾒ</strong>
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    <strong> <a href="https://twitter.com/kovanayastal">@KOVANAYASTAL</a> </strong>
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    <strong>ﾒ</strong>
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